


The Drop

by Wrappedbubble



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Even Bech Næsheim, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reminiscing, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-09-24 17:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20362480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrappedbubble/pseuds/Wrappedbubble
Summary: Technically a sequel to "I'm Gonna See Some Friends" although it can be read as a stand alone.*******I wanted you to see this film which I had intended to be an homage to everything that we are.  I filmed as much of us as I could, much to your annoyance.  It was supposed to end with my proposal or our wedding day. It was never supposed to be an homage to everything that you were and could never grow to be.  I made this into Scene 1...There you stood, your back to the camera, knee deep in gently breaking waves.   It was perfect and beautiful and you were so full of life.  And neither one of us could have had any idea of what was coming our way only a few months later.





	The Drop

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a stand-alone piece although I think it would be better to read "I'm Gonna See Some Friends" first. They're both short pieces so shouldn't take too long. 
> 
> This piece is actually quite hopeful. I hope you agree. 
> 
> As always kudos gratefully received and I always like reading your comments. 
> 
> Much love!

**The Drop**

**Film review by Nils Solberg**

**5 out of 5 stars **

**The Drop, a film by Even Bech Næshim should not be featured at the Oscars. Because, if tradition is to be upheld, where exactly does it fit? **

**Not in the foreign film category, although it could nestle there comfortably enough. Yet with that said, comfort is an abstract notion in this particular piece.**

**It only just scrapes in at forty three minutes, which qualifies it for its position as a nominee in the Best Picture category.**

**Its' style is home made and rightly so. Director, Bech Næshim is also its producer, its editor, it's everything. That is until you realise that half of it belongs to one Isak Valtersen.**

_I wanted you to see this film which I had intended to be an homage to everything that we are. I filmed as much of us as I could, much to your annoyance. It was supposed to end with my proposal or our wedding day. It was never supposed to be an homage to everything that you were and could never grow to be. I made this into Scene 1..._

_There you stood, your back to the camera, knee deep in gently breaking waves. It was perfect and beautiful and you were so full of life. And neither one of us could have had any idea of what was coming our way only a few months later._

_And then in I come, entering the scene from behind the camera at a run and yelling 'Isak!' and tackling you into the waves. When you came up coughing and spluttering I asked you with a smirk if you'd got a drop of water in your throat again. You tackled me right back down._

**If you are yet to see this film and don't want spoilers then I suggest you look away now. Isak Valtersen is perfect. Healthy and happy and making Bech Næshim into the best version of himself. It has, over the months since the film's release, become clear that Bech Næshim suffers from bipolar disorder, but with Valtersen by his side they should have ruled their own world. **

**So what exactly does "The Drop" mean? Bech Næshim has yet to explain the title and so we, the audience, are left to wonder. Is it the moment that the penny drops because you realise that Isak won't make it out of this alive?**

_It got harder and harder to edit it as I went along but I refuse to be weak in the face of it. This will be my shrine, my temple. This will be my statue, my nobel prize. This will be my everything because you are my everything. Scene 18 was something that I had forgotten had even been filmed. I panicked so hard that I entirely forgot that I had been holding my camera just seconds before, filming away idly. I found it when I was looking through everything after I had moved. After I had seen the boys. After I had taken your old tshirt and old cup and upped and gone to be alone with your memory. I had filmed you and said that the light looked just perfect on you and you had smiled at me and blushed and then I told you that the camera could pick up on your blushing didn't you know? And then you coughed a little. And then you coughed again. Then again. Then I dropped the camera and it landed on the bed and all it did was film the horrid green sickly colour of the hospital blanket over you and pick up the sounds of you wheezing and sobbing and panicking and me shouting for help and shouting your name. And then you sat up fast and hammered at your own chest in a total panic and I remember the look that you gave me, eyes wide and wet. _

_I don't remember too much else after that, and the camera rolled off the bed and hit the floor. I had to buy a new one after that. I bought the best one that I couldn't afford. Because honestly, who even cared about money at that point?_

**Is it the way that your stomach drops when you finally get that Bech Naeshim is filming this not to make a ghost of out Isak but to make him immortal?**

_Scene 33 is beautiful Isak. Beautiful. It's the one that I want to watch if a Doctor ever tells me that I have five minutes left on this earth. This is what I'm going to want my eyes to look at last of all. Because you told me that you had an idea. That you knew exactly what was going to happen and it was so so special. It was everything. It was you understanding, and getting it, and everything falling into place. It was your greatest gift to me. Your words._

_You told me that when you died you had this idea that you would explode. That every part of you would expand and burst and didn't I know that we all came from stars anyway? And that was where you were going to go. Each and every one of your cells, your atoms. Everything that makes you just you was going to surge up and out into the cosmos and you would stay there forever because stars never really die. And wasn't that just the best thing ever? I held your hand and listened and filmed and cried and held you. I kissed you all over your beautiful face. I mixed my tears with yours and we smiled and we touched and we loved. And you told me that one day, hopefully when I was old and grey, then all of my old and grey atoms would explode as well. And then we would find each other again in the huge void of space. Because that's always what we are going to do. You and I, coalescing stardust and infinitely just us._

**Is it the way that your heart drops when you watch Bech Naeshim collapse in on himself in the aftermath?**

_This part was hard for me to watch but at the time it made perfect sense to me. I suppose I should have known that this was coming from the second that I bought that new camera. Scene 39. Just me following my mother around the house begging her to film me so that I could see myself properly. My camera catching glimpses of the ceiling and the house as I swung it back and for in my hand. My father occasionally appearing in the background, sitting with his head in his hands, not knowing what to do with his son. My mother and father together arguing and crying over my increasingly frustrated attempts to get them listen and film and take this record of me down. I screamed, I cried, I begged. I was shameless. I shouted at them for hours that all I wanted was Isak. Isak. Isak. I want Isak now. Like they could make that happen. And when they stood their ground I shifted mine. You won't help me? Then I'll do it myself. I muttered those two sentences to myself over and over as I used duct tape to hold cameras up in every corner of my room, taped them to surfaces. Trailed their cables into one thick rope of them and tucked it out of the way. I filmed everything. Not all of it made the cut. Some of it was too private. But I included a snapshot of the hours and hours of pacing all through the night. The hours spent hunched over my laptop scrolling through articles on the stages of grief and then trying to act them out so that I could get past them quicker. The cycle went on for weeks. The snatched moments of sleep came only when I surrounded myself with your beanies and snapbacks, a halo of you around my head to make me feel no better than I already did. Your halo. And when my parents came and told me that they were getting scared I told them over and over that I wasn't going to kill myself because I wasn't old and grey yet and you were only interested in my old and grey atoms. They looked confused. They looked terrified. _

**It is likely that we will never be told the real reason behind the name. When all is said and done, the name is not what matters at all. It is a raw and real observation of love. Of life, and of death. Of acceptance. Of winning and losing and being ready to roll the dice and take a chance at life again even if that means going it alone.**

_Okay. So this is truly strange. You're going to like this. I've only managed to go and get myself an Oscar. I blame you entirely Isak Valtersen! The red carpet is just as horrific as I thought it would be. But I'm not here alone and I know that would make you happy. You'd hate to see me try to get throught that on my own. Most of it is complete nonsense. One reporter asked me what I was wearing and I think that he meant what designer. As if I have a designer. So I just told him that as long as I was wearing clothes and smiling then that was all that mattered. He looked thoroughly confused. I don't plan on making a career out of this I think. It's ridiculous in its own way. I'd rather go back to our little piece of homely happiness and wait out my time comfortably, waiting to be old and grey for you. But they expect speeches here. This is what I told them._

_I am grateful for so many things. I am not alone. I came here tonight with the support of the people who loved Isak first, the ones who knew him longer and who miss him too. Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi, Eskild. Eva, Sana, Vilde, Noora, Chris and Linn. And I never will be alone because having Isak meant having you too. This is my love letter to him, and to all of you. _

__

__

_Thank you._


End file.
